


A Human Heart

by anactoria



Series: Dean/Benny Challenge Ficlets [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2258073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anactoria/pseuds/anactoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You ever wonder?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“’Bout what, brother?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You know what.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Benny pokes his head out from under the Viper he’s fixing up. All he can see of Dean are his legs, dangling over the edge of the stack of storage crates he’s sitting on. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“’Bout why our CAG ain’t got nothing better to do in his off hours than hang around keeping his deck chief from working? Yeah, I wonder about that a whole lot.” </i>
</p><p>[Dean/Benny BSG AU.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Human Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [deanbennychallenges](http://deanbennychallenges.tumblr.com/)' [week of prompts](http://deanbennychallenges.tumblr.com/post/94762320064/this-years-dean-benny-challenge-week-is-from-the) on Tumblr. Prompt #4: Sci-Fi.
> 
> Unbetaed.

“You ever wonder?”

“’Bout what, brother?”

“You know what.”

Benny pokes his head out from under the Viper he’s fixing up. All he can see of Dean are his legs, dangling over the edge of the stack of storage crates he’s sitting on. 

“’Bout why our CAG ain’t got nothing better to do in his off hours than hang around keeping his deck chief from working? Yeah, I wonder about that a whole lot.” 

He’s grinning, but there’s an echo of truth in it. There’s a whole fleet out there, and the medals that decorate Dean’s uniform would be enough to turn heads even if he didn’t have a face that’d look more at home on the books of a Caprica City modeling agency than the flight deck of a Battlestar. Benny’s got baggage: an ex-wife dead on Caprica and an old drinking problem that keeps him down here working extra hours when the rest of the crew’s getting fall-on-your-ass drunk after a rare victory. Why Dean sticks with him instead of seeking out some fellow pilot who could match his swagger—or, hell, a civilian who he wouldn’t have to talk war with—Benny can’t rightly say.

Dean returns his grin. “Frak you,” he says, without heat. But he sticks to his subject. “You know what I mean, though. You ever wonder what if? How you’d know if you were one of them?”

Benny cocks an eyebrow. “Not if I can help it.”

“I used to think—nah, no way. No way you could be a toaster and not have a clue somewhere in there.” 

Dean’s voice has gone quiet, pensive in a way he rarely gets outside of funerals, and Benny slides out from under the Viper to look at his eyes. They're distant. 

“But after the thing with Anna—man, I don’t even know anymore.”

There it is. Dean and Anna had a thing, back when they were both nuggets, and though that’s ancient history, they stayed close. Had each other’s backs out there. Right up until Anna turned around and took a shot at the Commander. 

Dean isn’t really looking to hear Benny’s thoughts on the matter, though he’d never admit it; maybe doesn’t even know it himself. He’s here for comfort, pure and simple.

Benny gets to his feet and moves closer, stepping in between Dean’s knees, hands on his hips. “Day at a time,” he says. “’S how I take it. Worrying about _what if_ , that ain’t what I signed up for.”

He breathes against Dean’s temple. Gradually, Dean subsides into his arms, mouthing at the side of his neck. He may not be agreeing with what Benny says, but he’s agreeing to be distracted, and that’s good enough for now.

The flight deck’s quiet, at this hour, and between the Viper and the storage crates, it ain’t too hard for them to keep out of view. Benny presses Dean up against the wall, swallowing the low noise he makes when Benny’s fingers find their way beneath his waistband. They jerk each other off slow and steady, foreheads pressed together, exchanging wet, lingering kisses. 

It’s easy, comforting, not exactly rattling the furniture and shaking the walls, but Dean sags against him afterwards like he’s exhausted, a low groan of “Yeah, that helps,” against his collarbone.

Benny catches his breath, shifts his head to look Dean in the face. “Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah.” Dean gives him a small smile. “Feeling like that? ‘S how I know I’m human.”

\----

It’s months later when Benny hears the music in the walls of the ship. Later still when he figures out what it means.

The pieces fall into place and his heart breaks. And still—still, it feels like a human heart.

**Author's Note:**

> [I like to imagine that in this universe, Anna resurrected and was allowed just a fraction of Boomer's complexity and character development...]


End file.
